That’s how long its been since last I posted to this online reserve for words and images.

5 months is a long time for me to not write anything down.

At first I felt as though I desperately needed to be writing, which quickly turned into a worry that I wasn’t writing, and finally, over the course of 5 excruciating months, I realized that I had needed to not be writing. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20, meaning in this case that all becomes clearer the farther you move away from it.

As the dust settles on the frenzy that was my first solo show, Carnivora, I’ve made peace with the inevitable adrenaline depleted lull that results from running the human engine at so high a level for so long. Coupled with the withering winter weather that settled upon us through November and on into the new year I think it accurate to say that I retreated into a safe space within myself. It was a space where I could slowly attempt to understand everything that had happened over the course of the last two and half years and begin to glean what lessons there were to be had from the experience.

Its taken me nearly all of this time to be able to say it aloud, but Carnivora was a success. In many ways it exceeded my expectations and yet in still other ways it failed to meet my admittedly lofty hopes. That’s as real world as it gets.

Carnivora succeeded via the generous amount of media attention heaped upon it and yet, like so many other artistic endeavors of the day, struggled beneath the burden of our faltering economy.  The turn-out was beyond my wildest hopes, with over 300 people in attendance on a night whose weather veered towards the biblical (2, not 1, tornados descended upon the major metropolitan area that night.) After the fact, at the start of 2011, F.A.M.E. NYC, an arts and entertainment focused blog, went so far as to declare Carnivora the “Top Art Exhibit of 2010” – lofty praise indeed.

the turn-out was beyond my wildest hopes...

And yet, I felt deflated upon its closing: very nearly tearing up the last time I turned out the lights and walked away from the space.

You see, it took me 3 months to realize that it wasn’t about the sales or the galleries, or even the flattering media praise heaped upon the exhibition. It took me another 2 months to realize I wasn’t just telling myself that. In the end, I realized it was about doing it. Actually making it happen. Conceptualizing the idea behind the project, creating the work, convincing others that it was worthy of being shown to the world, and then showing the work! Truly it was about the journey and not the destination, which ironically, was something I told myself throughout the project, but managed to forget at day’s end.

And then… I realized it was time to do it all over again! That’s when I started rubbing my hands together and muttering “what next, what next?” with a wicked gleam in my eye.

I’ve planted many seeds since then and I’m eager to see which sprouts first.

I would gather the funds and backing necessary, produce a massive amount of art, which when completed would be shown on its own in a gallery in Manhattan’s Chelsea art district. I would not pay for the space, but I would instead convince others that the work deserved to be seen. I would use this exhibition as a springboard for my career in the arts: I told them that I referred to it as a Career Launch Event.

I was honestly and earnestly told that, “generally speaking, that doesn’t happen for unknown artists.”

Well, sometimes it does…

I have a solo show at a gallery in Manhattan’s Chelsea art district… and I feel pretty goddamn good about it.

Of course, as many of us know, it’s easy to dream, but bringing that dream to fruition can be a painstaking process. The realization that dreams, generally speaking, do not just simply come true is a tough pill to swallow for many. Those dreams must be methodically broken down into smaller components, which must then be broken down into a digestible series of actionable steps… or, in keeping with the cliché: baby steps. The hard part is not figuring out where you want to be, but rather, figuring out how exactly you’re going to get there.

As I ramp up for the show, set to open Thursday, September 16th, above all else I know… I’m tired – but I am more alive than I have ever been and I know that I have a chance in front of me that I will not squander.

I hope you can make it: it should be an interesting experience!

The Time of Men: Forest Glen, pigment print, 45 x 60

Shot on location in the Delaware Water Gap. A lot of early mornings, and even more waiting around… early in the morning. Proof positive below…

In the event of boredom, insert finger into belly button and wait...

Waiting was an interminable purgatory of in-between: NOW was how I thought of heaven, while LATER was hell.

As I grew older and the reality of accomplishing larger goals dawned, patience developed as a necessity. Expressions such as “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” and “time flies when you’re having fun” were mantras oft repeated as I methodically broke down projects into the bite size, and therefore more easily achieved, steps by which a larger whole comes together.

A good example of this would be the photographs that my partner, Nicole, and I are soon to capture in the wooded paths and mountain crags of Eastern New York state.

At the heart of these tableaux vivant will be costumes, as is fast becoming a trend in my contemporary photographic work.

Born round a crackling fire, sketched in a camp chair, and powered by a crusty PB&J sandwich, the imagery came to life.

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I had spent weeks prior to the sketching of the designs collecting fabrics and leathers and feathers from which I hoped to make the costumes. There were trips by car and train to acquire the materials, and I lovingly sealed them into large plastic bins, taking up yet more space in an already cluttered home studio (and living room – sorry sweetheart!)

After the collection of these necessary materials I sought the services of a talented costumer whom I had met many years before while shooting black box theater for New York’s Inverse Theater Company.

The costumer worked diligently after several meetings to discuss the viability of and tweaks required to make my designs a reality. As the weeks peeled away we moved forward and elements were completed. There remained, however, one item needed: a collection of small sticks, worn smooth by the lapping of gentle waves and bleached by the sun such that they resembled bone. Yeah, that’s specific… and I knew exactly where to get them. The problem was that the location (a reservoir in upstate NY) was inconvenient to get to.

In the interim, as I plotted to secure these magic sticks I worked with a friend to produce a component for the male costume: an icon meant to perch atop a staff. The staff had been ordered from a gentleman in Georgia, crafted from a fallen cedar swamp tree and had taken more than 2 months to arrive. After late nights of fevered research I ordered sandals through the internet. I discovered and stalked the notions and trimmings stores of New York in pursuit of those little details that add up to create a richly detailed scene.

Months passed and the costumes were completed… and they were magnificent! All save for the now legendary sticks (legendary in the fact that I’d spoken to so many about them, but no one had ever seen a single one.)

I knew that the damn sticks needed to be a part of the project – I hadn’t seen anything like them. Anywhere. And I had looked. Trust me.

But, finally, almost a year later, on the way back from Maine, at the end of a daunting 11 hour drive and as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, I clambered down the wooded incline that lead to the shores of the reservoir where I had remembered seeing The Sticks. It felt magical – to have spent so much time thinking about and pursuing something only to be this close, and there… bobbing in the water… exactly as I had remembered them, were The Sticks.

As I type these words, the sticks are being incorporated into the final elements of the female costume, having been sized, trimmed and labeled for use.

The point of this all is that after more than a year of effort, we are only now drawing upon the time when we will make use of these costumes. Where once it was missing from my internal make up, patience has now become essential to the process and project. Patience has become a part of who I am and what I do. And that is something I never saw coming – not once.

The planning has begun in earnest: 5 days in the woodlands and forests of The Delaware Water Gap (weather permitting.) Hiking, camping and trekking in order to find that perfect location where light and land cooperate to create something special. And then… well, then we put on the costumes and we start playing in the woods.

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The aesthetic goal for this project was originally inspired by the format and concept realized in my Post-modern Fairy Tale series, and though we’ll be using different equipment and techniques I hope to capture some of the magic and wonder of that first series.

Check back here for our results!

Another day, another piece of handmade custom designed jewelry… ho-hum.

Kidding aside, I love how this piece has turned out: one of the most moving aspects of this project is to see the real world transformation from drawn design to physical object.

Being so lucky as to work with the craftspeople I have has taught me an enormous amount about their processes and art, as well as about compromise and the beauty of a creative partnership.

Click the image below to see the original design drawing.

A first, brief look at a wax cast for a new piece of jewelry for the upcoming project, Carnivora.

In order to help with visualization: the bracelet will be cast in silver, accented with red coral cabuchons, and the open center chamber is to be filled with a single smooth piece of onyx overlain with a patterned silver filigree.

One such medium is that of the musical note: I’ve spent the better part of the last year working with an immensely talented musician named Felix McTeigue (aka FDR.) Over the course of many months we’ve assembled what I believe to be an album of music that we both can be proud of.

To celebrate the near completion of this phase of the project I’ve linked to a track from the album below.

Please feel free to listen, download, burn, or email it and otherwise treat it like you would any other track daring enough to show its face online stripped of any kind of DRM. Please help get the word out…

Expect to see the album on iTunes at some point in the next 6 months!

Enjoy

Click the thumbnails below for another view, and an image of the mold from which the ring sprang.

The other day I lurched into the local coffee shop and began to peel off my layers as I stood before the jeweler I had come to meet.

She had asked that I come to take a last look at the wax mold for the ring I had designed.

One of the many things I’ve learned in working with jewelers on the pieces to be showcased in my upcoming show, Carnivora, is that just because one can draw it on paper, does not mean that it will translate literally. I’ve come to live the expression “I make it pretty and you make it practical.” And so it was when I looked upon the small purple sculpture that sat in the hand extended towards me.

The ring, as imagined, will be cast from Palladium with onyx set into the “eyes” and is intended to be worn either with the point towards the wearer or away.

On the hand it just feels right.

Click the thumbnails below to enlarge…

Below you’ll find a detailed explanation and short video production diary of the process.

I hope you enjoy, and to find out more about this project please visit jasoncovert.com

CARNIVORA is a multimedia installation inspired and informed by the purported discovery of what are now being referred to as The Sacred Texts of Carnivora, in Greenland. If proven authentic, these simply marked stone tablets unearthed in 2004 would predate the earliest known cuneiform writings by nearly 5,000 years. The implications are history altering, and with that in mind during this time of uncertainty and economic strife, when our systems and structures have been called into question, CARNIVORA will invite viewers to consider how fragile and arbitrary our world can be and what can happen when our assumptions are asked to change.

CARNIVORA is massive: it incorporates elements of still photography, large format illustration, sculpture, painted works, ceremonial masks and robes, custom designed jewelry, poetry and literature, as well as an original musical composition, all designed to transport the viewer into the world suggested by The Sacred Texts of Carnivora.